Before weekend babble. Lebo M died. That is really just plain shit. She was wonderful. I met her once or twice. The first time was when I went to watch my friends film their show, and she was one of the guests. Backstage she was full of energy and craziness and fun. And she was also miniature. And had platinum hair. You just had to love her. Then I watched a doccie on her and was completely inspired by her strength, intelligence and self-determination, which I have always kept with me. I have always really admired her, and such an accident is just shit for this country.
Rest In Peace, you gorgeous woman!
Otherwise… Got woken up at 7.45 on Sunday morning after a whole 3 hours of sleep to my friend “Ms. Fidel” shaking my leg.
“Champs, wake up. Wake up. We’re leaving. You can sleep on my couch”.
“You are insane. Not a chance. Looking at my options, driving far far up the Nicol without sunglasses & a hangover or Sleeping on your couch do not come anywhere close in appeal to my current situation…sleeping in the bed of this hot hot man, even if we are not even cuddling. Bugger off”.
“No! Get up. I am not going to be around when this entire household of only guys get up in an hour to all go off to golf. GET UP NOW!!”
“Yes Fidel. I don’t really see the problem with that. I did that last weekend. But as you say, Fidel. Bluddy hell”.
For a short blonde chick she definitely knows how to make me listen & obey. That’s the thing with dictators, I guess. And then I lay on her couch all morning unable to get back to sleep watching the series channel, well, until the power went out because of stolen copper electric cables up the road & I was stuck on her property. STOP STEALING CABLES...Honestly.
I really would’ve liked to stay in that bed. Thanks AGAIN ‘Jack”….I’ll see you next Sunday morning if this trend keeps up!
But Ms Fidel made me tuna salad for breakfast. Cause that’s what you want for a hangover meal?!?!? But one does not argue with one’s dictator.
Then my Darling D Pimp phoned and shouted at me (tamed down & language edited version of his rant):
“I am pretty damn certain we had this exact conversation exactly last Sunday while you were drinking gingerbeer on the stairs of some shopping centre. You end up in the bed of a hot man and you still do not get shagged. Did you even (edit) (edit) (edit) or try to (edit) (edit)? Honestly. I am giving up on you & this task. And did he have a girlfriend? I bet he did, knowing you!!”
Yes, well, that’s why we didn’t even cuddle. And I am so impressed with my intelligence… if you have to make a decision of where to sleep in a house of 8 guys at 4am on a drunken post-Colony morning, where is the safest place to sleep…. the bed of the guy with the girlfriend!! Much to the frustration of my dear persistent Blue-Bearded Pirate who engineered for us to have Cobra beers after Colony at his house to see how much longer I could resist. I had plans of my own… and for one moment that weekend staged a coup against my dictator…and well, just gonna say I am so talented at the artful set up! He he he.
Then Darling D’s boyfriend shouted into the phone that he’d shag me if I wanted to. Thanks babe, you’re so sweet & caring! Then he got more descriptive and D screamed at him in the horror of the thought of a naked woman and hung up, & I don’t see there being a lot of loving in that relationship this week.
Otherwise, gorgeous night of drinking with dear Jam & Fly* on Friday!! Thanks & we can do that again anytime. Then I bumped into a friend on the way to my car, and she convinced me we needed to catch up @ Transkei & then catch up some more @ Catz’ PJs….over pizza…and a litre of sangria…and another litre of sangria….and then it was sunrise & I was snoozing in a chair. Bluddy hell.
I found my kid again!! He was so so happy to see me & broke out into the biggest grin as soon as we spotted each other. His name is Isaac. I need to find out info about shelters cause I have promised to take him to one. Such an intelligent sweet kid! Well…he follows in his mom’s footsteps after all.
Saturday night, after a day of being Fidel’s shopping partner instead of attending a beerfest as was my original plan…we ended up at Colony. Some chick threw ice at someone. It hit me in the eye. So I made some British guy unrelated to the entire situation buy me a tequila. And then everyone started drunkenly considering who was going to be scoring who and we all went back to a house to drink beer & ponder the question some more. Cause that’s what one does on a normal chilled weekend like mine.